Should solace, be a, pilgrimage
From faith, in fear, to Satan’s lair
Soul’s stupor, cedes to, heart’s outrage
To lay, the passion’s, paradox bare!

Thru the prism, of sin, this moonlit night
Breaks down, to shades of, dark mystique
Tethered to, two ends of, life’s twilight
Our nirvana, is the pain, we seek!

Sinks, solemn sun, mounts, manic moon
Mind delves into, that sanctum, within
From the, bacchus-bazaar, to where, the cupids swoon
Are found, telltales of, shame and sin…..!

Like miasma, strays, in venal veins
And riot, broken, parakeets
Life tramples, o’er, day’s remains
To The, Sin-Shops, Lead These, Drunken Streets!

© 2019 Vikas Chandra